Cold
by Rose Red217
Summary: A look into Dean's life. Why he's the strong, silent brother. 'He was naturally a sweet person.'
1. The Vase

**She can't remember a time without him in her life. Well, she can but she doesn't like to. Her old roomate once asked her if he was 'the one'. "If by 'the one' you mean the one who I can't stand to be around; the one that I can't stand to be without; the one who can make me so angry; the one who makes me cry; the one I hate; the one I love; the one who I know nothing and everything about; the one who will drive me crazy; then yeah, he's the one." She replied. **

_Looking back at me I see that I never really got it right_

_I never stopped to think of you_

_I'm always wrapped up in things I cannot win._

**He left on a perfect autumn day. She remembers this because autumn was her favorite season. After that day she liked spring better. She remembers leaning on the hood of his car as he put the rest of his clothes in the car. There was no long goodbye speech. Dean was never good with words anyway. There was only a long slow kiss. That was ok for her. Everything that he wanted to say was in that kiss. There were no tears, no bitter feelings, no passion. There was only a boy and a girl. He wasn't one for drama. She waited until he slid into to drivers seat and turned on the car. Then she walked to the house. She didn't want to stay and watch him drive off. When he got to the highway, he pushed the gas petal to the floor and stared straight ahead. **

_You are the antidote that gets me by_

_Something strong like a drug that gets me high_

**He couldn't be with her. He didn't deserve something so pure. He had seen too much in this world. He knows what goes bump in the night. He had to protect her from the creatures of the night. It's not fair for him to be with her. Not like this. He wishes with all of his heart that things were different but they weren't. Like his dad would say; no use crying over spilled milk, toughen up kid. That was Dean's mantra now-a-days. Toughen up kid. And he had. He had let his heart freeze over. The truth was, by nature he was a sweet kid. When he was younger he wore his heart on his sleave. He didn't do that anymore. His dad had taught him that that was a weakness. He had built up walls to guard himself to make his dad happy. The walls were strong. But not strong enough to keep her out. He hated himself for that.**

_What I really meant to say_

_Is I'm sorry for the way I am_

_I never meant to be so cold_

**The truth was that she knew he was broken. She could tell the day she met him. She has this beautiful broken vase that she bought at a yard sale for 10 cents. He always made fun of her for getting it. It was so broken that she couldn't put any flowers in it. Still she loved that vase and it still sits on her fireplace. She knew that he didn't understand who she loved that vase. She never told him that it reminded her of him. So beautiful and so broken. She could try to patch the vase back together but it wouldn't be the same. The vase will always be broken. He will always be broken. And she's accepted that.**

_Cold to you, I'm sorry about all the lies_

_Maybe in a different light_

_You can see me stand on my own again_

**He went back once. To their old house. But she was gone. She had moved to God knows where. He could have found her if he really wanted to but he figured that she didn't want to be found. He understood.**

_I never really wanted you to see_

_The screwed up side of me that I keep_

_Loked inside of me so deep it always seems to get to me_

**She recognized the sound of the car before anything else. It was him. He had found her. There came a soft knock at the door. Instinctively, she quickly smoothed out her wavy hair before she opened the door. They stare at each other for what seems like forever. She can tell that somethings wrong. He looks worn down and sadder than she remembers. He come in and she makes some coffee. Neither one says a word for a long time. She glances over at him. His once clear green eyes have changed. They look like a stormy sky now. She wonders what he wants as they sit in silence and drink thier coffee.**

_I never really wanted you to go_

_So many things you should have known_

**He watched a bunch of kids get murdered in front of him. He tried to help them but he couldn't. There was no excuse. A failure. Those kids died and he couldn't stop it. After that he couldn't sleep or eat. His body went into autopilot. He's not really sure how or why he ended up here, in her kitchen, drinking coffee. He's kidding himself. He knows why he's here. He needs to feel love again. He needs to have someone want him. He needs to be with her if only for tonight. He's knows it's not fair. But god, he just wants this so bad. He's never ask though. He always needs the things that he can't ask for.**

_I quess for me there's just no hope_

_I never meant to be so cold_

**She can sence his thoughts. She walks over to the sink and he follows her. She tries to concentrate on the dishes that she needs to wash instead of him. She tries to ignore how good he smells, or the fact that he's standing so close to her, or the fact that she knows whats under that shirt, or the fact that she wants him again. His hand grazes against her hip bone. She has to move away from him. She slowly dries her hands. Suddenly his thumb is making little circles on the base of her neck and she gives up on fighting this inward battle with herself. She lets her body relax and leans back into his touch. He can read her signals expertly. He spins her around to face him. They kiss for the first time since he left. His jacket is dropped to the floor. His shirt soon follows. Her shirt is next. He leads her to the bed and to his suprize, she pushed him down first and then lays on top of him. She kisses him all over. His eyes go shut and his breathing gets heavier. He lets her do what she wants. He's forgetting about the little kids, he's forgetting about his dad and the horrible things that he's seen. She always had that affect on him. He'll remeber everything tomorrow but for now, he can forget.**

_What I really meant to say_

_Is I'm sorry for the way I am_

**The next morning he's gone before she gets up. Like a hurricane. In and out quickly with lasting effects. She goes into the kitchen and sees something on the table. The beautiful cracked vase has a white rose in it. She knows that the rose will soon die. But her beautiful broken boy will be back again. Once his job get to be too much again, he'll be back. And with him he'll bring his stormy eyes, the smell of masculinity, and another white rose.**

_I never meant to be so cold_

_Never meant to be so cold..._


	2. Broken and Addicted

Please review. I would have updated sooner but I got over 1,000 hit and only 7 reviews so I didn't think anybody liked it. Please just take 2 seconds and tell me if it was good or not.

After hurricane Dean had left, life went back to normal. She was disappointed in this. She thought that the moment she saw him again, it would be a life changing event. The ground would shake and fire would come from the sky, something like that. But nothing like that happened. He was just here and gone. No emotional greeting or goodbye. Simple, understated. That was her Dean.

She wondered if Dean thought of her as his. Maybe. She hoped (but she would never admit that to him). Her old roommate had said that he probably had a girl in every state waiting for him to stop by. Somehow she doubted that.

She was right about him. She always was. He came back again. He stood on the porch waiting for her to answer the door. He hated himself at this moment. He hated that he had been so weak and come her again. He knows this isn't fair to either of them. So he promises himself that this is it. That after this he's done. He didn't have the energy to keep this up. He wanted freedom, for both of them. He remembers wondering if he's truly serious as she opens the door.

She opened the door and let him come in. She made a promise to herself that nothing was going to happen before she got some answers from him.

Looking back, she saw that it wasn't a fair fight. Dean had be worn down, no energy to fight. But she had pushed him. She wanted answers, damnit. She wanted a normal relationship. Was that so much to ask? Didn't he think she was worth that? Was she just his whore? She knew exactly how to push his buttons and send him spiraling helplessly over the edge.

When her endless assaults were answered by silence, her blood boiled and she screamed at the top of her lungs at him.

Before she could even realize what she was doing, the vase had already left her hands. It crashed into the wall and fell to the floor. The second that the beautiful vase hit the wall, it broke into a million little pieces. It was beyond repair now. Somehow, she thought that they were too.

Silence followed. Her brain was on seven second delay. She didn't know how, but somehow Dean understood the significance of the vase breaking. Or maybe he was just shocked that she threw something at him.

She ran into the bedroom and slammed the door shut. Dean stood there frozen.

The fact was that they both knew that her aim was perfect. Three years being the pitcher for her high school varsity softball team had ensured that. They both knew that she hadn't missed. She hit her mark: the wall, not Dean.

Once she heard his car leave, she walked out to the kitchen. She looked at where the vase had broken but nothing was there. Instead, something else caught her eye. She went over to the table and saw a few big pieces of the vase. Broken, but the paint was still beautiful. Under the pieces was a letter. 'I'm Sorry.' was all it entailed. Nothing poetic, nothing personal. In fact, if anyone else would have seen it, they would have laughed at the simplicity. But she was an expert at reading between the lines with him. She accepted that he meant it and that that was all she was going to get from him. She accepted that there wouldn't always be a white rose.

Somehow, as she picked up the pieces with shaky hands, she thought of how fragile Dean really was. The vase was gone now. All that remained were a few pieces. There wasn't a glue, clay or art supply that would put it back together. She put the broken pieces in her old memory box. For some reason she just couldn't throw them away.

When she was in the bedroom she had sworn to herself that this was it. That she was done. She didn't have the energy to keep this up. She wanted freedom. But she knows that she's kidding herself. He's like a drug, and she's an addict. No matter how hard she tried or how many times she told herself, she would never be able to quit Dean. There wasn't a patch, gum, or amount of therapy that would change that.


End file.
